28 Hot Rods
by steelcrash
Summary: 28 meme, featuring Hot Rod. Part 8-Lust and lightning do not mix.
1. Chapter 1

28 Hot Rods

Part 1 Well-Shagged

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod came slowly out of recharge. He tried to stretch, but the berth was inexplicably cramped. His processors took a few seconds to catch up with the rest of him. He was suddenly aware of another body in the berth with him. Currently in a contented recharge, judging by the steady intake and release of air from vents near his right audio.

He was lying on one of the other mech's arms. The other, the right arm, was firmly and possessively wrapped around his middle. The mech was spooned up against him, he remembered, that was the human term.

The young mech tried to shift to a more comfortable position without disturbing his bunkmate, but his companion settled more closely against him, this time settling their chin between Hot Rod's chin and shoulder. Hot Rod smiled, not quite believing his luck. The one he wanted more than any other in the universe was asleep beside him, and at the moment, nothing else mattered. Not after the last few hours.

He was sure there would be consequences in the morning, when the others would know, if they didn't already. He could act like he didn't care, but for once in his young life, he actually did.

Hot Rod offlined his optics, going back over the previous day and the night's events in his mind.

The day looked like it was going to start like any other. However, fate had something else in mind. He'd been conscripted into a command staff briefing, which he'd been forced to attend in Kup's place, as his friend was in the middle of a forced stay in the med bay thanks to a Decepticon ambush. Hot Rod had almost managed to avoid the meeting, but because he worked so closely with Kup, who was director of security for Autobot City, he was tapped to give Kup's report in his stead.

His own report was brief, because right before giving his update on the new weapons upgrades, he caught Optimus Prime tapping his fingers on the table, glancing at the chronometer on the wall. The meeting had been going almost an hour and a half at that point. However, his part was followed with a long, detailed report from Ark security director Red Alert, giving them all a rundown of recent Decepticon activity as well as several friendly-fire incidents caused by the twins and no less than a half-dozen practical jokes. Hot Rod hid a smile at that because one of the jokes backfired, resulting in a particularly nasty threat from Prime, directed at Ratchet. Something about Optimus tying Ratchet down to his own exam table and letting the twins have their way with him medically.

The meeting eventually ended, and Hot Rod headed for the rec room to grab some energon, but he bolted when he saw Arcee bearing down on him with an indescribable look in her eye. That lead him to hide in Kup's office, and that didn't last long because of the alert Blaster sounded.

Then the Decepticon attack on the nearby damn and its power-generating station, helping search for human survivors and removing the Autobot wounded from the battlefield.

Back at Autobot City that evening, no one talked much, and even Optimus Prime made a rare appearance in the rec room, choosing the company of his Autobots to his normal solitude. Hot Rod even noticed, but didn't get a chance to approach his leader because Arcee accosted the young mech, dragging him from the room.

But now everything was all right, for the moment. He was content, and his boldness earned him something he never thought he'd have.

Hot Rod ran his free hand along the arm wrapped around his mid-section, caressing as he went.

He felt the other mech stir against him.

"You're awake?" the voice rumbled in his audio.

"Yes."

"After. . ."

"I'm not used to this."

"I understand," the voice said, and Hot Rod was pulled closer.

He settled against his companion, unable to muster the energy to do anything else.

"Sleep well, Optimus," Hot Rod whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

28 Hot Rods

Part 2 Daring

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The argument with Arcee after the battle left Hot Rod cold. She could sure pick her moments, he thought. He hadn't been to the med bay to see Springer because he hadn't a chance. _She _wouldn't accept that. Yes, Springer was his best friend, but they had an understanding. Friendship was important, but sometimes duty came first. Like now. And he'd known Springer longer than she.

Hot Rod cared about Arcee, knew the potential existed for them to be more than friends, but sometimes, she was a wedge driven between him and his best friend. They'd been together a long time before Kup found them, barely surviving--the last two members of the Autbot resistance on Quintus.

After the fight, he'd gone to Kup's office, shutting the door, hoping to get some recharge, but Arcee sought him out there, too. She'd mumbled an apology, but he'd driven her away

He'd eventually found himself in the med bay, to check on Springer, but he was in recharge. And finding himself unable to rest himself, Hot Rod chose to wander the corridors of the city, and hopefully find some solace in solitude.

But it was not to be.

A restless Optimus Prime also walked the halls. Hot Rod came upon him staring out the window on the observation deck in the west quadrant, staring out at the night sky.

"I'm sorry," he said, stumbling upon his leader.

Seeing who it was, and realizing he hadn't had a chance to check up on the post-battle status of this particular mech, Optimus asked.

"You're unharmed?"

"Nothing that can't wait until morning," Hot Rod said.

"Ratchet will have your head and mine if he finds out you didn't get immediate repairs and I didn't drag you there myself, like I should, considering I'm your commander," Prime said.

"You won't find Ratchet in any condition to fix anyone, let alone himself," Hot Rod said.

Prime raised an optic, questioningly.

"I was in there a while ago to see Springer. Ratchet was face down at his desk surrounded by empty high-grade cubes," Hot Rod said. "Wheeljack wasn't in much better shape."

"How is Springer?"

"Spring's going to be OK."

"I'm pleased. He took considerable damage."

"He's had worse," Hot Rod said, letting slide any comments about damage he himself had taken in the past.

"Well.. ." Prime said, taking his leave.

"Yeah. . ."

Hot Rod watched Optimus turn to go.

"Wait," he said, reaching out at the same time, taking hold of the bigger mech's wrist.

Prime stopped.

"You. . .want to talk?" Hot Rod said. "I know it's late, but we're both awake but if you want to talk, I'll listen."

Prime nodded.

Hot Rod let his hand slide from Prime's wrist to his hand, leading him to his quarters.

---

Hot Rod sat on his berth, back against the wall, one foot on the berth, with his arm resting on his knee. He swirled his container of energon, enjoying the companionable silence with his leader. Prime sat in the chair from Hot Rod's desk, looking more relaxed than Hot Rod had seen him in a long time. Optimus refused a drink, which was fine with Hot Rod. Just having him near was enough.

"I should let you get some rest," Prime said finally, rising to leave.

Hot Rod shot up, dropping his container of energon, not realizing he had unconsciously put himself in his leader's path.

"Hot Rod, if you'll step aside, I'll leave you to your recharge."

Hot Rod didn't know if it was the energon, his nerves, or he'd finally snapped, but he couldn't believe it when the words came out of his mouth. Not in this moment would he confuse his usual boldness with the sheer stupidity and impossibility of it.

"You don't have to go."

Prime blinked.

Again, he didn't pull away when Hot Rod reached for him, this time pulling him down with him to the berth.

Prime, taking it upon himself to be the voice of reason, tried to think of a good reason to go.

"Hot Rod, it's been a very long time. . ." he said, ignoring the younger mech's roving hands.

"So?" Hot Rod said, pulling Prime's head down near his own, trailing a hand over a sensitive node in the other's neck. "Try never."

Optimus snapped back at that, raising himself up on his elbows, staring down into the face of the other.

Hot Rod brought up a reassuring hand, caressing Prime's jaw with a finger.

"It's all right. I'm not afraid. Let me do this. . ."

Prime continued to stare down at Hot Rod, torn between giving in and walking away.

He was Prime, the one who always gave of himself, never expecting anything in return. And here was one making a willing offer to _him_.

He gave in, sinking into Hot Rod's embrace.


	3. Chapter 3

28 Hot Rods

Part 3-Jealous

I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod screeched to a halt, transforming into his bipedal mode just outside the rec room entrance. His abrupt entry raised more than a few optic ridges. His own optics narrowed as he walked inside, scanning the room. Springer had a hell of a lot to answer for, if the rumors were true.

There, in the corner, sat Springer, with Arcee, who was leaning in close, more intimate than he'd ever seen the two.

So, it was true.

He stormed from the rec hall, cursing himself.

Arcee was real, and they had a chance, he thought, but obviously not. If they were serious, he'd back off. He owed Spring that much. They'd been through too much together, had only each other for so long that to let someone else in, at one time, was unthinkable. But now, they were where they belonged, and the chance existed for a life of more than fighting, if they could end the war.

He slowed, walking down the corridor, flashing mechs he passed with his customary devil-may-care grin. Once outside, he transformed, headed up to the observation platform on Lookout Mountain, where he wouldn't be bothered. Where he could dream.


	4. Chapter 4

28 Hot Rods

Part 4-Naive

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod didn't flinch when Arcee brushed against him as she passed him in the corridor that morning. She didn't get a reaction when she asked how the defensive upgrades were going in the western sector.

It was like she didn't exist.

That night, late, when they were the only three left in the rec room, he didn't quite get the innuendo in their conversation.

He bade her good night when she left to go to her quarters.

Then felt, and heard the resounding smack Springer planted on the back of his head.

"Are you that dense? You're a crazy slagger, you know that?"

Hot Rod rubbed his aching head.

"What are you talking about?"

"Haven't you been paying attention?" Springer asked, incredulous.

"Paying attention to what?"

"You have got to be kidding. . ."

"WHAT?"

"Arcee."

"What about Arcee?"

"She's been dropping all kinds of hints lately, practically begs you to come to her quarters tonight and. . .you haven't been paying attention have you?"

"No. Lately, if you haven't noticed, I've been getting my aft kicked from one side of this sector to the next. Helping Kup with the security upgrades at the Ark, training with Ironhide and not to mention three different stays in the brig for pranks I was not directly responsible for, and those long-range reconnaissance patrols with the humans that Ultra Magnus thinks are great for character-building and self-discipline. And I seem to notice you suddenly have a lot of leisure time on your hands. . ."

Springer leaned back in his chair, threading his fingers behind his head.

"That torn rotator in my shoulder isn't quite healed yet, and Ratchet said I'm not ready to come off light duty."

"Not healed, my aft," Hot Rod said.

"Seriously. Plus it gives me a chance to spend time with Arcee, seeing as no one else her age is currently available. . ."

Springer smiled as the lights finally came on inside Hot Rod's head.

"She's so not interested in you," Hot Rod said.

"We'll see about that," Springer said.


	5. Chapter 5

28 Hot Rods

Part 5 Angsty

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

At first, Hot Rod felt awe whenever the other was around, even a little scared. After all, Optimus Prime was a legend. Or at least considered a legend until Hot Rod received the news the once-feared-dead Autobot commander was alive and well on a planet called Earth, populated by sentient organic beings. Over the ensuing weeks and months, the awe was tempered by the knowledge his Prime was just like the rest of them, only he didn't often show it.

Hot Rod readily accepted this knowledge, knowing the others around him tended to treat Prime as something other than ordinary, which he was not, yet. . .

He had to admit he was a little jealous of the easy camaraderie the others shared with Prime, and wondered if he would ever share the same relationship. But of course, that was crazy. So, Hot Rod contented himself with watching from afar. After all, he wasn't completely alone, although Springer had finally moved into his own quarters, and he had developed both a close working relationship with Kup and a friendship he enjoyed, and he raced with Blurr and got into plenty of trouble with the twins from the Ark, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.

There was also Arcee to consider. She drove him crazy in other ways, and he knew Springer thought he'd lost his mind because he wasn't being as aggressive with Arcee as she was in her pursuit of him. And that was part of the problem. He cared about Arcee, but the thought of someone else was in the back of his mind.

On the rare occasions he ran into Prime, he flashed his devil-may-care smile, and meant it, but afterward, always felt a little sad. And there were the other occasions, like when he was being reprimanded, or getting tossed into the brig when he felt guilt. Because he saw the disapproval in the other's eyes, which let him know he had the potential to be so much more. Sometimes though, it was easier to just get by. He'd been doing it for so long it was second nature.

Hardhead had been the first to go, followed by Roadrash, Arclight, Skyblade and the rest, leaving him and Springer to fend for themselves. The neutrals never quite came to trust them, even towards the end, when it was just him, and they worked side by side.

Maybe it was time to stop just getting by, he thought, and move on.


	6. Chapter 6

28 Hot Rods

Part 6 Obedient

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

He was in the hot seat. Again. Hot Rod stood at attention front of Prowl's desk, hands clasped behind his back. He listened to the second in command of the Autobot forces, nodding when appropriate. Yes, he regretted helping the twins sneak into Wheeljack's lab. No, he wouldn't do *that* again.

He followed rules until it hurt, sometimes. Other times, like now, he felt remorse for his actions. Mostly.

The prank was a good one, he had to admit. And his willingness to take the punishment meted out with dignity and honor had frankly shamed both Sideswipe and Sunstreaker into coming clean and admitting their part.

Prowl's punishment was fair, considering their actions, and in the back of his mind, Hot Rod suspected if it had been Prime he was standing before, the consequences would have been far, far worse. But Prime wasn't there, called away on urgent business with the humans. As it was, he felt lucky Prowl wasn't in a foul mood, like their leader currently was.

"Your stay in the brig is suspended. No frontline duty for two weeks, and in that time, you will help re-build the lab and assist Ratchet in the med bay. I also don't want to see you anywhere near Sideswipe and Sunstreaker in that time. Sideswipe won't be a problem, but Sunstreaker has been dropping your name and 'dismemberment' in the same sentence," Prowl said. "Dismissed."

The tactician watched Hot Rod nod without saying a word, taking his leave. He was impressed with the stoicism showed by the young Autobot. Usually, he'd try almost anything to get out of punishment, but sometimes, like now, he did the opposite. Prowl chalked it up to being young and inexperienced, but sometimes, Hot Rod showed potential to be so much more than what he was. Like just now--quiet, mature and willing to take responsibility for himself and his actions.


	7. Chapter 7

28 Hot Rods

Part 7 Exhausted

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod scrubbed at the marks on his chest plating. The blasted marks wouldn't come off. He had actual skid marks on his chest armor, which extended up the right side of his face and head. And even worse, they hurt, and he'd never been so tired in his life.

He tried to sneak down the corridor to his quarters without being seen, but just his luck, Springer turned the corner. The green mech stopped when he saw Hot Rod, staring as he took in his friend's condition.

"Arcee do that?"

"Very funny, Spring," Hot Rod said.

Now that he thought about it, probably the only part of his body that didn't hurt was his aft, and Springer was quickly becoming a pain there.

"Femmes don't leave skid marks," Hot Rod answered.

"You sure about that?"

Hot Rod shook his head, dismissing the comment.

"Well, then, did you fall off a mountain?"

"You could say that. . .I just spent the last few hours playing hide and seek with two of the Stunticons," Hot Rod said. "All I want now is some recharge."

"Why didn't you call for help?"

"My internal comm was busted in the fall, and Dead End managed to smash the one in my wrist when he was using me as a soccer ball. Look, I'm tired. All I want is some rest. And I actually don't feel too good either. . ."

Hot Rod raised a hand, placing it against the wall to brace himself as he sank to the ground. Springer caught him, comming Ratchet at the same time.

Hours later, when Hot Rod was stable and in recharge in one of the med bay berths, Ratchet sat on a stool by the young mech, watching him. He was lucky to be alive.

When Springer called him, he found Hot Rod nearly in stasis lock, and of course, he hadn't said anything before passing out about the blast wound to the back of his left shoulder. Part of the spoiler was missing, and the blast that hit Hot Rod had turned bits of it into shrapnel that pierced one of his main energon lines. He'd nearly bled to death and didn't know it.

Now, most of the damage was mostly cosmetic. The spoiler was gone, and so were the cannons on both of his arms. They could be replaced. But the hard part was over, and his patient was resting comfortably with an energon line placed in his arm to help replace what he'd lost and take some of the stress off newly-repaired systems.

Ratchet's thoughts were broken by the sound of footsteps. He turned around, seeing Optimus Prime standing in the doorway.

"How is he now?"

"The danger's past. He's resting, for now."

"Good."

Prime watched Ratchet stretch, servos whining as he rose.

"I don't suppose I could impose and ask you to watch him for a few minutes?" Ratchet said. "I haven't had a break in. . .I don't know when my last break was today."

"I'll be glad to keep an eye," Prime said. "Take as long as you need."

Prime took Ratchet's place, settling in.

Ratchet turned to go, but stopped.

"Answer me this--how did he end up out there by himself for so long?" Ratchet said.

"Prowl found out he left the Ark early in the afternoon, Hot Rod told Bumblebee and some of the others there he was taking a cruise through the mountains because he wasn't due back on shift until this morning," Optimus said.

"I hope he's learned his lesson, and the next time he decides to go joy-riding, he'll let somebody know where he is," Ratchet said, walking out of the bay.

Prime turned back to the monitors attached to the young mech. He was sure the next time, and there would be a next time, Ratchet would drive home his point, even if it hurt.


	8. Chapter 8

28 Hot Rods

Part 8 Horny

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Avoidance was the name of the game. The other mech was courteous when he saw him, but made sure he was never around for more than a few minutes at a a time in a social situation, or long enough to give orders. Or in that case, he'd been delegating recently. The latest security briefing was no exception. Hot Rod stood outside the door, considering it all as the other mechs filed by.

Kup placed a hand on Hot Rod's shoulder startling the younger mech.

"Sorry lad. Didn't mean to scare you, but lately you've been jumpier than a turbofox on a shooting range," Kup said.

Hot Rod shrugged, dismissing it.

"Just have a lot on my mind. That's all."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. Everything's just fine."

--

He kept an eye, biding his time, until a he got the chance he was looking for. He followed at a distance, not caring if the other noticed right away. Not like he'd be able to outrun *him*. He raced, opening the throttle, pushing himself to the edge of his abilities. If he couldn't have what he wanted, then maybe he could forget for a while what he had tasted.

Hot Rod followed him into the night, only stopping when the other had had enough.

He watched Optimus transform, following suit. Prime stood, watching him, arms crossed.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" Hot Rod said.

Optimus sighed, resigning himself to the inevitable.

"I've had much to occupy my time," he said.

"Sure."

"Hot Rod, this isn't the time. . ."

Hot Rod raised an optic ridge.

"I felt maybe you needed time. . .to work this from your system. I took that which was precious. . ."

"You didn't take anything that wasn't willingly offered," Hot Rod countered.

Lightning flashed overhead, casting Hot Rod half in shadow and light. And Optimus looked at him, as if he was truly seeing for the first time. Along with Hot Rod's resolve.

"Are you afraid?" Hot Rod said, flashing his trademark grin.

"Never."

Prime reached for him, unsure if he should proceed. A storm was gathering in both the literal and metaphorical sense, with Hot Rod as the lightning and he as the lightning rod. He could feel Hot Rod's tension in his frame, matched by the anger and frustration from his own. Energy crackled between them. And then the lightning struck.

---

Dawn broke, casting shadows over the landscape. Hot Rod woke first, finding himself face down in the mud. He pushed himself up on his knees, looking around. He grinned, seeing Optimus flat on his back several feet away. Served him right, being so uptight sometimes, but it had been more than worth it. He hurt all over, but it was nothing he couldn't handle, and he was covered in mud. Some redundant systems weren't working, shorted out by more than the lightning strike. That brought another grin, and it faded slightly at the prospect of explaining to a certain medic why.

The lightning struck Optimus first, but it arced to him. He remembered that much. And he couldn't imagine what Optimus would be feeling when he woke up. He didn't have to wonder long as his leader started to stir.

"Whu. . .?" he said as Hot Rod helped him to a sitting position.

"Don't tell me you forgot what happened," Hot Rod said.

Prime frowned, optics flashing in annoyance.

"Lightning."

Hot Rod smiled.

---

Hot Rod helped Optimus into the medbay, arm wrapped around Optimus' larger frame, supporting him. Ratchet looked up from the datapad he was reading when he heard footsteps.

Hot Rod. Covered in mud. With an equally mud-covered Optimus Prime draped over him.

"What happened to you two?'

Optimus sighed, reluctant to answer.

"Decepticon ambush," Hot Rod said.

Ratchet's optics narrowed, but he stood, coming over to unburden Hot Rod of their leader.

"You--stay here," Ratchet said, pointing at Optimus. "And you, go get cleaned up and get your aft back here as soon you can so I can get a look at you too."

The medic examined Optimus, a cursory glance speaking volumes about his leader's condition.

"Funny. There are no blast burns, but those are some interesting scratches on your chest plating," Ratchet said.

Prime lay very still.

"And some of your secondary systems are burned. Charred beyond recognition exactly. If I didn't know better, I'd say you'd been struck by lightning."

Curious, Prime met the medic's gaze.

"Why do you say that?'

"Sunny and 'Sides dared Blue to go stand out in a storm last summer. He did all right. He clearly forgot his basic physics. Fried his vocalizer. It was a nice, quiet couple of days," Ratchet said.

"Why didn't I hear of this?"

"It was the week you were in Washington negotiating the contract for the solar cells for the city. I figured you had enough to keep you busy, so I dealt with it myself. If it happens again, our twins will go from Lambos to Mini Cooper and Smartcar. You're luck, though. Take it easy for a few days if you can, because that's about what it'll take for your automatic repair systems to fix the damage. Not much more I can do. Now off to the wash racks with you."

Prime sat up, stood, a bit unsteady on his feet. Ratchet shook his head in exasperation as he watched his leader exit the med bay, frowned when he saw Hot Rod back already, then raised an optic ridge as he saw the glance that passed between Prime and the younger Autobot.

But he pushed it from his mind as he got ready to check out Hot Rod.

"Your turn, hot shot," Ratchet said, shoving Hot Rod back onto the exam table, running a quick scan. Same damage, although not as severe, and scratches to the chest plating, as well as a few dents and red paint scuffed on parts of his frame. Then it clicked. It matched the yellow and orange paint scuffed onto Prime's normally immaculate red paint job. Oh Primus.

Ratchet nearly dropped the scanner in his hand.

"Everything all right, Ratch?" Hot Rod asked, sitting up.

"Lightning, eh?" Ratchet said, turning around, meeting the young Autobot's optics. Hot Rod didn't answer.

"Get out," Ratchet said. "And the next time you two decide to go at it outside, don't do it during a lightning storm."


End file.
